TUNGI, India, March 30—The ground is flat and parched here. Dry, gray, barren riceland, punctuated by clumps of bushes and trees with leaves coated with dust, waits for the monsoon due sometime next month to bring it back to life.

In one of the dusty trees beside the dirt lane in front of the Indian Government border post here a uniformed man sits with a bolt action rifle. From his perch he can easily see about 100 yards down the lane to a crude, unpainted wooden East Pakistani border post. It has been unoccupied for months. In the last month the only things passing between here and East Pakistan have been dust whirlwinds.

While Calcutta is swirling with reports of frenzied activity along this part of the 1,300‐mile border that separates India from the civil strife in East Pakistan, life here goes on in quiet, eerie slow motion under a scorching sun in a cloudless sky.

Along the road to the border, people, water buffaloes, scared cows, goats and dogs—most with their rib cages showing—gather at the few last water holes that have not yet turned to mud and then dust. Blackbirds and crows are the only birds, and they appear to be walking rather than flying this time of year.

Little to Do

Inspector Kulbahadur Gurung commands a 12‐man platoon of border guards here. He said there has been little for them to do, as usual. Three to five days ago—he wasn't quite sure—a small group of East Pakistani border guards came within sight of this outpost on its usual monthly patrol. But otherwise, he said, there has been no activity, no refugees fleeing the violence and no Indians crossing from this side to join in it.

“There is nothing here,” he said. “The fighting is a long way over there.”

The commander of a similar post about 10 miles to the north gave the same response: nothing unusual. Both outposts are east of the Indian town of Krishnagar, 70 miles northeast of Calcutta. Across the border, 20 miles into East Pakistan, is the town of Jessore, where heavy fighting has been reported for two days. While people in the towns near here had heard about it, there were no eyewitness accounts.

Sympathy for East Pakistanis

In Calcutta, there were sympathy parades for the “liberation forces” of East Pakistan. Newspapers were full of reports of “butchery, massacres, rapes and looting” by West Pakistani soldiers and glowing victories by the East Pakistani independence forces. But attribution of and confirmation for these reports were largely missing.

There were reports of guerrilla‐warfare experts crossing the border with homemade grenades, bombs and other weapons to aid the East Pakistanis, who are Bengalis like most residents here. These reports could not be confirmed.

The only visible sign of soldiers was along the road froth Calcutta to the border. At about noon, two Indian Army convoys of three trucks each sped toward Calcutta. The soldiers in the trucks held their rifles ready, pointing them toward the road as if they were protecting important people or things.

But at the two outposts there were no signs of fighting. There was only heat, dust and quiet.